And So They Did
by Severus in Furs
Summary: Severus' early morning walk takes a turn for the worse when he finds Lily crying by the lake, but every cloud has a silver lining. A oneshot Severus/Lily for your hurt/comfort fix.


For: 10hurtcomfort.

Prompt: 1 Abused

Warning: For uncomfortable subjects and situations

--

He often found peace in those early-morning walks, exploring the grounds of the castle that was his first, and only, home. In the wee hours, just this side of dawn, when the sky was still ruled by the quickly fading moon and the clouds and the glittering pointed stars, Severus sought the corners of his preferred world, beyond the hustle-bustle industry of his Muggle house, outside of the thick, confining walls of the school, which kept him pent up with Potter and Black. Even Slytherin house itself was a pressure cooker, dominated by green this and green that, glittering trophies and malicious whispers. The place was so full of musty pride, it was all he could do not to choke, but outdoors, walking the edge of sunrise, there was freedom.

On this particular morning, he had a mission. The tree on the grounds had excited his curiosity for some time, particularly since he had deduced that it had been relocated to the Hogwarts campus not because it was so ancient and endangered -- the official line -- but because it served as a guardian for something. _But __what_ exactly, he had wondered during particularly boring History of Magic lessons of late, was it guarding? And who in their right mind would hide something valuable out in the open like that? Severus knew there was no treasure buried beneath the tree's roots. A number of arrogant sixth years with their pet nifflers had already tried to locate gold, and had returned with nothing except significantly fewer nifflers. The frequent cries of _'Accio treasure!_' had accomplished nothing either. Severus, for his part, had no intention of searching for riches. His family was not particularly well off, but they did not want for gold. What Severus wanted was power, notoriety, something that would set him apart and make him unique; something that might impress Lily Evans.

Lost in his thoughts, it took Severus a moment to realize that he had accidentally trodden into the lake. Mud from the bank squelched into his boots, dampening his skin, and he grimaced in revulsion, disgusted with both it and himself. That carelessness would have to be corrected. Furious, he berated himself. What if he had been daydreaming and confronted by one of James Potter's insidious pranks? Unarmed, off guard, he could have been a victim of one of Sirius Black's nasty curses, for despite Black's sworn allegiance to Gryffindor and his claim that he hated his family, he made good use of the borderline illicit hexes and offensive curses they had taught him.

A sound reached him from across the lake, and for a moment Severus' hand hovered near his hip, ready to plunge into a pocket and whip out his wand for protection, but within a few seconds he had placed the sound as decidedly human and, reassuringly, female. Curiosity piqued, he strode through the deep reeds and tall grasses that bordered the lake, preferring the cover they provided, allowing his boots to sink, once again, in the quicksand that occasionally caught unwary first years.

A girl, has he had suspected, but instead of feeling confident or proud, Severus felt his heart give an uneasy pound and his stomach lurch. She had red hair, copper-red, threaded down her back in unravelled plaits; Lily. The pleasure he would normally have taken at discovering her out in the morning, where they could talk privately, was erased immediately when he recognized that she was not talking, nor singing, but crying. No delicate tears these either. Lily's sobs made her entire body shake.

"Lily?"

Quick as a doe, Lily jerked upright and fixed her gaze at the lake's edge. Clear water lapped the sand and rustled the cattails which grew there, but she did not see anyone. For a moment, she waited, chin trembling, her hands clenching as they scrabbled over the banks looking for sharp pebbles to use in self-defence, wishing for her wand. She had no idea where the wand was. Perhaps the boys had taken it, as a memento, or more likely, she had dropped it in the melee, but either way, without it she felt terribly vulnerable. "Who's there?"

"It's me," Severus said, extracting himself from the tangle of roots and grass with some difficulty. Shaking loose the last vine, he raked his longish, dark hair back from his brow. It was then that he saw the disaster before him.

Lily had started out the morning in a pair of bell bottom jeans and a white Muggle peasant blouse, rows of small, beaded bracelets around her wrists. She preferred Muggle clothing, which was only allowed on weekends and afternoons, and had been pleased with her reflection in the mirror as she had slipped on a pair of sandals and finished braiding her hair. The outfit had undergone severe revisions, however, when she had been attacked by the gang of Slytherin boys. One, an over-powering seventh year, had seemed particularly dedicated to the task of divesting her of her blouse, which hung now in tatters. The jeans had been wrested away entirely, and at least half a dozen of the thin little bracelets had been snapped, their colourful, cheap beads scattered across the grass, even shining boldly from the muddy water. She had tripped, kicked off her shoes and fled at one point, and her feet were bare, but it was her face that sported the most significant injuries. Already, a black eye was blooming where one of the boys had struck her. It did not hurt nearly as much as Lucius Malfoy's backhand, the result of her spitting insolently in his haughty face. Blood has smeared across her bottom lip and chin, as she had bit her tongue when she had been shoved onto the ground.

"Oh," Severus said, very slowly. "Lily." His eyes widened as he surveyed the damage, but he did not wait to run to her. "What happened?" he demanded, bold and fierce and absolutely spoiling for a fight. "Lily?"

Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, Lily opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her. Chin trembling, lips quivering, she wrapped her arms around her nude knees and bent forward again, clutching her body into itself for protection. Tears stung, dripping from her eyes down her legs, the salt stinging the open cuts, but she could not stop, and it only got worse as Severus smoothed her hair back in an impossibly delicate gesture.

"Who did this to you?"

Somehow she managed to whisper, though her voice was so soft the words were barely audible. Severus, however, heard. "Some of the Slytherins."

Severus' sharp intake of breath made Lily jump, though he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The sight of her so ravaged made him terrified. He did not think he could cope with the tears, the shuddering sobs. What he wanted to do was lash out, to attack the entire school if need be with a barrage of insults and curses and lightning-fast hexes. Whatever his education had trained him for, however, he had somehow been prepared for this. In a crisis, his mind cleared, and for once, instead of feeling the torment of lust and shyness and jealousy that filled him whenever he stood in Lily's presence, he felt only vulnerable, as if something as near and dear to him as his own heart had been mercilessly abused almost to the breaking point. Which, he decided as he looked at Lily critically, she had. Without bothering to think it over, Severus bent down and scooped Lily up. "Come on. We need to get away from here. You should be seen in the hospital wing anyway."

"Not the hospital wing!" she voiced with sudden panic.

"No? Why?"

"Pomfrey'll ask questions, she always does, and they warned me." Shaking her head and gritting her teeth, Lily managed to voice the threat. "They said, if I tell anyone, if I lose them any points --"

"Points?" Severus asked, outraged. He could not think of anything that mattered less.

"They were doing it for you," Lily said, her voice waning. Her conscious mind was giving in to the steady pressure to let go, to escape the shock by retreating into sleep, and she wanted to, so badly.

Severus tightened his grip on her, picking his way around the edge of the lake, his mind working as he tried to determine how to get Lily to safety without being spotted. "Me?" he asked, horrified and confused.

She nodded, remembering the way Lucius Malfoy had smiled at her, a gesture that was almost friendly, and thus horrifying on his predatory face. "They said you were making a mistake, being friends with Mud -- Mudbloods." The word sounded so foreign on Lily's lips that she remembered that she had never spoken it aloud before, that curse so specially designed to attack people of her blood heritage. "They said you had to stop it or -- or you'd get hurt. They said you wouldn't think much of me now." Exhausted from her confession, Lily slung one arm around Severus' neck, holding on as tightly as she could manage. "I need to sleep now."

"I'll bring you to the castle, you can sleep in the hospital ward. You don't have to talk if you don't want to; I'll do it."

"No, Sev," Lily spoke, her voice betraying anguish. Tears flooded down her face. "I can't go there, I can't face them, not yet, not now. Please, I need to rest first."

...

"Lily?" he prodded, gently, touching her arm almost timidly.

They were alone, together, and in the dark. Practically no external light was permitted to enter the shack through the boarded-up windows, and the fire Severus had lit barely threw out enough light to cast shadows, though it did engulf them both in a shady, reddish sort of glow. The fire had managed to make the room warm, however; it had been burning for hours.

Severus still was not sure precisely how he had managed to locate the secret chamber which led to this, an ancient shack some distance from the actual Hogwarts grounds he knew so well. He would never have considered venturing near the tree for sanctuary if not for Lily's urgent whispers, telling him something - he still wondered how she knew at all - about pressing the knot in the tree trunk, then escaping into the small passageway near the roots. Just after he had managed to achieve this, she had forgivably released her hold on consciousness, leaving Severus to clutch her body against him like someone who had been given a rare treasure to carry indeed.

The gentle glow of the fire had provided just enough light for him to see her body - and wounds - clearly. Lily had painted her toenails red at some point and the polish glowed despite the dirt on her feet. Her legs were a pattern of bruises and scrapes, and smears of dirt and blood had told Severus all he needed to know about what she had encountered. His mind had pictured her, dragged, and he had rudely shoved away any intruding thoughts about the blood on her thighs, refusing to consider the possibilities lest he go mad. There would be time for revenge, but for the moment Severus had had to make do with healing. The dusty shack contained broken furniture and fragmented dishes, but no potions ingredients or stores, nor even an adequate cauldron for brewing, but he knew where the potions were kept in town, and the procuring charm had been simple enough.

Daubing salve on her legs, Severus found himself shaking. How many nights had he lain awake to fantasies of time alone with Lily? Yet, here he was, with Lily almost undressed even, and all he could do was tremble from the schadenfreude of the situation. Touching her, allowing his fingertips to linger just a moment as he applied the potions, was a pleasure, but a guilty one, knowing what it had cost her, knowing how she would detest him if she knew that he had hardly been able to treat her injuries for thinking of how badly he wanted her.

"Concentrate," he snapped at himself, even as he held Lily's hand a moment, ostensibly checking her pulse. Closing his eyes, he clenched her fingers tightly in his own, wondering what it would be like to do that in a different situation, the halls of Hogwarts, perhaps, or in the park near home during the summer. Running the pad of his thumb over her knuckles, he let go, pulling away the fragmented strings that had once been her favourite blouse. The fabric was sullied with dirt and blood, and he tossed it aside, assuring himself that his study of her body in only a thin bra and knickers was merely clinical. Hurrying himself along, he performed a cleaning charm to siphon away the majority of the spilt blood and filth, then concerned himself with parting her lips to administer a potion. When the task was complete, he slid away and fetched a few more thin blankets from the pile in the corner, out of which he had already made Lily a pallet. He draped one over her body, then made himself a small bed beside her. The heat of the room, the flicker of the flames and fact that he had not slept well the previous night all conspired against him, and soon his eyelids were drooping, though he did not fall asleep before reaching out to clutch Lily's hand.

...

She awoke like one emerging from the deepest recesses of the sea, with dreams still clinging like heavy water to her mind, which seemed too flooded with exhaustion to think properly. Cautiously, Lily opened her eyes, finding darkness. She was inside of a room made up of old wood and adorned with spider webs, lying on a bed of scratchy wool blankets that had been laid upon the dust-strewn floor. The room was not completely dark though; in the corner, a mild fire burned, casting orange shadows clawing restlessly upon the walls, reminding her somewhat of the Gryffindor common room during the wee hours of the morning, into which she sometimes ventured when she could not sleep.

Slowly, Lily tried to sit up, and that was when the pain struck. Her hips ached; her thighs burned. Gingerly, she raised her right arm and let her fingers prod experimentally at her face, touching the sore places, pressing each bruise. She remembered, then, how Lucius Malfoy, raising his wand and speaking in a cold, clear voice that echoed in her ears, had smirked as the curse he had worked had taken her, plunging her into paralysis. The other boys had fallen upon her with their hands, perhaps not daring magic, or maybe wanting to affect more personal damage. Lily could still feel them, their Slytherin hands, which had never worked a day and yet still felt rough, clawing at her knickers, grabbing at her wrists, pulling her hair. She whimpered involuntarily, and shivered, covering her face with her hands.

"Lily?"

Severus had barely spoken when she fell against him, burying her face against his shoulder. For a moment, he simply processed her sudden proximity, scarcely daring himself to breathe, lest she vanish and return him to reality. Then he embraced her tightly, pulling her body against his as hard as he could manage. Neither of them could breathe, he knew, but the loss of air seemed a small price to pay to hold her so close.

For a long time, she cried. It might have been only a few minutes, or as long as an hour that she remained there, her legs tucked under her, her arms around Severus's neck, dampening his collar with her tears and heating his skin with each sobbing breath. Finally, though, the pain became a bit less raw and the memories, though still fresh, less overwhelming, and Lily found the energy to draw back slightly, though she was grateful for Severus' arm, still tucked firmly around her waist.

Wiping her eyes with her hands, Lily blinked, trying to place her location. "Where are we?"

"I think we're in the most haunted location in Britain," commented Severus wryly. "The Shrieking Shack," he clarified. "I followed the tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow tree, and it brought us here." He frowned, raking back his hair. "Everyone has been trying to determine what's under here since the tree was planted, first year. You knew. How?"

"Remus told me," Lily answered, sniffing. "Third year."

Severus raised one eyebrow in an unconscious imitation of his father Tobias, for whom the gesture often served as a warning of lengthy tirades, or even violence, to come. Severus himself had added it to his repertoire early on. A curious expression, it communicated not only misunderstanding in urgent need of redress, but also a certain defiance, which he employed chiefly towards those professors he found wanting and individuals like James Potter, towards whom he wished to appear superior, or at least unaffected. "Remus Lupin?" Severus clarified. The subtle anger in his voice was not indicative of rage, merely jealousy. He had always despised Lily's Gryffindor friends, chiefly because they _were_ her friends, and the care she lavished on them meant she had a bit less for him.

Lily nodded. She was so familiar with Severus' dislike of the boy, as well as her other mates, that she scarcely noticed his hostility towards them anymore. "Yes. The tunnel under the tree was designed for him, to create a passage from Hogwarts to here."

"Why?"

"You know how Remus is absent from classes every month or so?" She waited until Severus nodded. "He is a werewolf."

Severus' eyebrows shot up further, both of them. "What?"

"A werewolf," Lily repeated softly. She bit her bottom lip. The secret had been entrusted to her on the promise that she would never repeat it to another living soul. James knew, and Sirius of course, and Lily assumed Peter did too though she talked to him seldom, but Severus, despite being her closest friend, was Remus' enemy, certainly not someone that Remus himself would see fit to tell. Still, Lily figured, she owed Severus that much. The truth had never been a forbidden subject between them, even when it was uncomfortable. Anyway, he had found her on the grass by the lake damaged and distraught, and he had taken her to safety and cared for her. If she could not trust him, there was no one she could trust.

"Are you --?" Severus tried, sensing that she was ready to change the subject. He leaned slightly closer, frowning as he scanned her face. The bruises had mostly faded, but her green eyes still looked haunted, and her expression, though she hid it well, was pained. "How are you feeling?" he tried again, not wanting to sound trite.

Lily sighed and shook her head, fighting the urge to cover her face and hide herself in shame, and also the desire to cry. Tears, she knew, would be useless. Hot and stinging, they would trail uselessly down her face and solve nothing at all save to make her skin blotchy and tight. Embarrassed, she shrugged. "I'm all right," she ventured, wishing she could make it so. "When you found me -- I don't really remember what I told you."

Severus' black eyes flamed. "You told me Lucius Malfoy did this. Him and some others, all Slytherins."

Lily nodded. "Rupert Zabini, Bertram Aubrey and Cedric Gibbon. And Lucius Malfoy, yes," she answered, speaking heavily. Their sneering faces appeared in her mind, all of them rabid and merciless, and she shivered involuntarily, hating the memory of them clawing at her, shouting all the while. The vindictive "Mudblood" that was their rallying cry still rang in her ears, but what disturbed her more was Malfoy's subtle hush, the way his eyes had shone when he had looked her over, how he had enjoyed directing the attack upon her, the lone Gryffindor prey of their early morning hunt.

"It's my fault."

"How?" Lily demanded, temporarily forgetting Lucius' smiling face as she turned to Severus.

His face looked paler than usual, cloaked with shock. "They went after you because they were upset with me," he explained, thinking of Lucius' intimidating stare. Severus had heard the intimating threats before, uttered in the dark in Malfoy's haughty voice with the intention of keeping frightened first and second years awake all night, their fear only alleviated when they gave him their allegiance. Severus, older, had never been threatened, but Malfoy had approached him many times with grandiose offers of wealth and prestige. All he would have to do, Severus had been told, was join an organization Malfoy found worthwhile, led by a man who called himself Voldemort. They would take over the Ministry, eliminating the Muggleborns and half-bloods Malfoy and his ilk so despised, and the world would be theirs. Severus, though his heart leapt at such offers, had so far refused, more out of loyalty to Lily than any true protest towards Voldemort's way of doing things. This, he knew, was Lucius' way of demonstrating his seriousness.

"It's my fault," Severus repeated aloud, though more to himself than to Lily. "No, it is," he added rather harshly when Lily opened her mouth to protest. "And my fault you were out this morning too, when there was no one else around. You did come out to surprise me, didn't you?"

Lily nodded, but her eyes flashed defiantly. "Yes, I did. That does not make it your fault. I won't hear another word about that, Sev, I won't, so be quiet," she added with a touch of anger as he tried to blame himself again. "Did you give me potion?" she asked after a few seconds, noting the strange taste in her mouth, which resembled cedar tea and honey.

"For pain, and sleep," came Severus' reply. "Do you need more?"

"Not yet. I --"

"You should have gone to the hospital wing," he interrupted. "Let Madam Pomfrey care for you. I can't -- I don't know enough to heal --"

"You did fine," Lily assured him, letting one hand fall to Severus' knee. She was aware of the jolt of electricity that went through him at her touch, because of the way he shivered. "Really. I feel much better now."

Wanting to believe her, but scarcely daring, Severus widened his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes."

"I made a salve as well," he went on, newly reassured. Severus' confidence, like a battered dog that occasionally still leapt up to lick the hand of its master, rose cautiously, waiting to be crushed. "Not my best. I could have done better if I'd had access to Slughorn's potions stores or my own kit, but I managed to summon some basic ingredients from the apocathary in Hogsmeade. It's not as fast acting as I'd like, nor as effective, but it does seem to have made the bruises fade, a little, and healed the scratches a bit." Shyly, he looked down at his boots. "Has it helped with the pain?"

"Yes," spoke Lily with a faint smile. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I feel better, but I'm so tired. And hungry! I suppose we've missed breakfast."

In response, Severus snorted. "And lunch, and any possibility of dinner. We've been gone all day. It's nearing midnight."

"Really?" Lily asked, surprised. "Oh, but Sev, I've kept you from your studies, and your lesson with Professor Slughorn!"

He raised his eyes, meeting hers, the emotion on his face painful. "I don't mind."

"Thank you," Lily replied, not looking away, though she could feel heat spreading across her cheeks as he looked at her with such intensity. "I wish -- I wish I could something for you in return, to make up for what you've missed. Is there anything?"

Severus shook his head, dropping his gaze. "I haven't done anything more than is to be expected. You're my friend, Lily. All I did was help you when you needed it. You would have done the same. Have done, in fact. You don't owe me anything."

"Still," said Lily mildly. Her injuries stung, but she shifted, leaning towards Severus again. This time, however, instead of resting her head on his shoulder, her lips found his. She could feel his shock, but also his pleasure, and sure enough, Severus kissed her back without delay, expressing a long-buried urgency and desire he never would have dared speak aloud.

His hands found Lily's hair, which he stroked, and he felt himself shaking with pleasure as Lily touched his face gently, her fingertips trailing down his cheek, her kisses deeper in response to his need. Lily's lips parted gracefully as he ran a tongue over them, allowing him access. She tasted like sugar, like honey, and Severus felt himself grow more aroused with each passing second. His heart pounded out a steady tempo that consisted of the rhythm of her name in his thoughts, and Lily found herself forgetting the fear that left her cold, losing herself in Severus' firm embrace.

"I --" Severus started when they broke apart.

"Shush," warned Lily gently, smiling. "I wanted to do that," she reminded him, before he could launch into a tirade of self-loathing and blame. "I have for a while now."

Severus could only stare. Disbelieving his luck, he tentatively reached out, taking Lily's hand, and intertwined his fingers with hers, scarcely believing it when she squeezed his fingers back. "You're certain?"

"Yes, of course," Lily answered. She leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. "And I want to do it again, but first, I need more sleep. I'm so tired. That potion you gave me, it must have been strong."

"It was. I thought you'd need it."

"I do."

Severus tried to pose nonchalant. "Shall I walk you back to your house now? Everyone in Gryffindor must be worried," he said, with a certain amount of coolness as his thoughts turned to Potter and Black. They would be worried, all right; they trailed Lily like happy phantoms, demanding attention. Severus felt jealous at the very thought of giving her over to them, even for the night. Grimly, he thought of what he might encounter in his own house. "Maybe you should see Pomfrey anyway."

"No, I don't think so," Lily said. She smiled at him, and the firelight cast golden highlights in her hair and made her eyes sparkle with mischief. "I like this. Let's just stay here."

And so they did.


End file.
